A Letter to Heaven
by Lady Charity
Summary: Sharpay writes a letter to a beloved person in Heaven that left too soon...


Sharpay stared blankly at the petal-pressed stationary on her teak desk. She felt somewhat childish and foolish, depending on false hopes to speak to him. But she had to try. He would be watching her, he would read her letter. Besides, nowadays she always believed that prayers were a one-way only to God and that _he_ couldn't hear.

She took a deep breath and quickly swiped out a crisp sheet of creamy paper. She popped open the cap of her purple ink pen and was about to write on the paper before she froze. What would she say? What was there to say?

Well, there was one fresh idea in Sharpay's mind…

Screw Aplastic anemia.

Sharpay sighed, capping back the pen and massaging her temples. Why? Out of all the people in the entire world, _he _ just had to be the one of the eight people out of ten billion people to be diagnosed.

Why, why, WHY?

Sharpay could still smell death in the house, the cold, sour stench of death. She could still see him, pale and frail, propped up with pillows on his bed, his white skin blending in with the snowy sheets. She still remembered the scent of dried blood as she constantly washed his pillowcase drenched with blood and when they rushed him to the hospital every other day to receive more blood just so he could bleed it back out of his mouth again. Sharpay could still hear the yelps and hisses of pain ringing in her ear every time he came back home from school and was writhing in agonizing pain while she stood there and unable to do nothing. She could still hear the taunting of students as he staggered through the hallways alone after everyone left just so he won't get the risk of receiving an accidental bruise. She could hear the taunting of students when he had to sit out for gym, for dance class, for _everything _ so he wouldn't risk bleeding to death. She could still see the students' faces, shocked and mournful, when his body lay peacefully in the mahogany coffin.

Hot, salty tears slowly trickled down Sharpay's eyes and landed in dollops on the paper. No, this letter will be of happiness, of casual joy, not of mourning and pain that she felt. She will have to mask that, even though she had a jiff that he would suspect she wasn't feeling all too happy-go-lucky at the time. Nonetheless, Sharpay slowly opened the pen and began to write.

_Dear Ryan,_

_It's been about a month or so since we last talked. It seems like forever. I always talked to you every day, so going through a day with less than two-thousand, five-hundred and thirty-two words spoken (my usual record, as you so kindly used to keep track for me…), it seems a little quiet and lonely. _

_Life is pretty normal here. School's still very quiet and soft-spoken. I personally don't blame them. Can't believe we're graduating though. Did you know that Taylor McKessie is the valedictorian for our graduation? I actually suspected Gabriella, but I guess Taylor beat her. That was unexpected. She wouldn't show me her speech though, but she said that you would like it. She better write something good, then. Haha, just kidding. _

_It's already May, and though we usually don't have a summer musicale or any other theatre thing, Principle Matsui decided to establish a talent show for every school year in the summer. Guess what the name is? The Ryan Evans Talent Show. That's right, Ryan, you got a talent show named after you, in honor of you. I guess something good happened for you after all. There's a winner, and Mother and Daddy present the award to them every year. Isn't that great, Ryan? I heard a lot of people are going to join, just for you. _

_To tell the truth, I'm a little nervous about graduating. I heard that seventy percent of your classmates, you will never see them again. I'm sure they'll see me though, in Broadway or something else. I hope. It's just that…I'm not ready to grow up yet, no matter how much I act like it. I don't want to take responsibility (lazy me) and I don't want to leave Mother and Daddy, or you. I know, I know, you'll be with me forever, but it just feels…scary. I'm scared, Ryan, about my future and my fate and how I'm going to live the rest of my life. Help me out sometimes, will you? _

_I really miss you so much that my heart hurts. I know you don't want that to happen, and I know I promised to move on and be strong before you went…home, but that's easier said than done. I'm weak, Ryan, and I know it from the bottom of my heart. I don't know what to do. How am I going to move on? Will I ever move on? Ryan, please help me! Please give me strength, I need you so bad. I love you Ryan, don't forget it, okay?_

_I hope you enjoy my yellow roses I left you. They're always your favorites._

_Say hi to God and Grandmother for me, okay?_

_Love always,_

_Sharpay_

Sharpay finally laid down the pen, her hand already cramping from writing. The writing was smudged, seeing that teardrops hand landed and blotched the inky words. Sharpay really hoped that Ryan could still read it. When the ink finally dried, Sharpay carefully folded the letter and slipped it in a cream-colored envelope and slipped it in her purse. She rushed out of her room and swooped into Daddy's black Mercedes, only stopping to fetch her bouquet of yellow roses on the kitchen counter. She didn't want to ride her pink convertible. What if the roses lose their sunny petals or the letter suddenly flies away and lands in the wrong person's hands. No, she wasn't going to take any risks. She revved the engine and slowly backed out of the garage, driving through the road.

It didn't take long before she reached her destination. Sharpay stepped out of the car and ambled out into the grassy pasture. The willow trees waved their elegant branches at her, as if welcoming her back to their domain. She clutched the bouquet of yellow roses tightly, ignoring the jabbing pain of the thorns. An endless sea of gravestones stretched out before her, and Sharpay could feel a lump in her throat. How many people died in Albuquerque, and how many mourning people did they leave behind? It felt strange being in a cemetery, with so many people who once lived, loved, and died under her feet. She took a deep breath and weaved past the many graves that always made her heart jerk uncomfortably as she read the names. Sometimes, the dates of birth and death were so close apart, too close apart. Just like Ryan.

There it was. A large, granite headstone seemed to shine out brighter than any other. Sharpay froze instantly, the lump in her throat swelling so large she could barely breath.

_Be strong_, the gentle wind whispered to her, caressing her face with its tender hands. _You can do it, don't be afraid._

Sharpay sucked in a deep breath and braced herself, striding closer to the grave step-by-step. She slowly laid her flowers down on the mound of dirt, still appearing fresh that it somewhat sickened her.

_Ryan Evans_

_1990-2007 _

_May His Song Forever Stay_

She tentatively pulled out the envelope from her purse and gently placed it beside the flowers. She crawled to her knees, her fingers tracing the fine dirt. What was there to say, to do now? Sharpay sighed. She couldn't speak, even if she wanted to. Slowly, she rose to her shaking feet and backed away slowly before sprinting towards the opposite direction, not looking back as a river of tears trailed behind her.

**Eric Connors inspired me to write this.**

**He was an actual person twenty years ago who had Aplastic Anemia**

**It doesn't have a cure **

**He had to struggle with the sickness, living in terrible pain yet stayed strong and lived with it, so much that only one person in school really knew that he had a disease. **

**He died in a September, right after he started his eighth grade. **


End file.
